His Poison
by bellamywinchester
Summary: He's a skilled torturer so he's well aware how poison works. She's a lot like it to him, as far as he can tell. [A sort of companion piece to 'Her Addiction']


Did you guys know that the only difference between poison and venom is the delivery (I didn't until this)? It could literally be the exact same substance, it just depends on how it's used on the person. English is such a fascinating language.

Anyhoo, this is the one-shot I promised eons ago as a sort of Klaus' POV of Caroline (not 'Her Addiction' specifically) to counter hers.

I hope you like it and if so, I'd like it if you'd leave me a review :)

Enjoy.

* * *

 _He's intimately acquainted with poisonous substances._

 _One bite and his venom will kill another._

 _Poison for stubborn humans – he's a skilled torturer, after all._

 _So he's well aware how it all works. And the effect she has on him – everything about her, really – is a lot like it, as far as he can tell. With one distinct difference, that is._

 _Not in his one thousand years has he ever known anybody who only sought more and more of their poison_.

* * *

A skull and crossbones. That's what poison brings to mind for most people.

Klaus' mental image is far more pleasant.

When he imagines poison she has sunny hair and the smile of an angel who knows just how to bring him to his knees.

She is truly beautiful.

Not the first or the last reason he's enchanted but it's certainly no less true. She's simply radiant.

He tries to capture what exactly it is about the blond angel of doom that captivates him but his hands are not up to the task. Michaelangelo himself could not, he feels, but now he's just being a romantic fool.

Which is in fact half the problem. He's not the same with her.

Nor when he thinks of her.

And really, there is no alternative.

Because she's in his blood now; in his veins. He couldn't get rid of her if he wanted to.

* * *

"I want you," he says to her, bringing the side of his thumb down the arch of her neck.

She's affected, he can tell, but she concentrates on pulling her face into a snarl.

"That's not my problem."

He knows. He knows that the way he desires her – deep down in a visceral way he's never felt before – is not her responsibility.

She takes a step back. "And you might think you do, but you're lying to yourself."

That takes him by surprise; he recoils.

"How so, love?"

"Because it's not enough," she replies simply.

His eyes narrow into slits – he doesn't know whether he's more angry or insulted.

"And how would you know that?"

"Because I know," she smiles.

She smiles but it's meant cruelly and he feels it tearing through his body.

"But, fine, let's put it to the test," she smirks, a brow shooting up. "You can have me, Klaus, if you stop terrorising my friends."

He knows he should say something but his entire vocabulary sits lodged in his throat as he stares at her wondrously; petrified.

Her lips quirk up. "That's what I thought."

Caroline walks away.

* * *

He knows it is the last part of her proposal that he should be thinking over.

But it's the first that will not stop running through his brain.

 _You can have me._

 _You can have me._

 _You can have me. You can have me._

He knocks back all the alcohol he can lay his hands on, needing something to counteract the delirious substance in his veins.

It doesn't help much though. It only sets his throat on fire as much as the rest of his body is.

 _You can have me._

* * *

"Yes," he whispers into her ear when nobody's looking.

She spins around in surprise. She hadn't even noticed him sneak up behind her.

"What?" she spits out, confused.

"I accept your terms."

He watches his words spread through her and her eyes dance around the room, hoping none of her friends are paying attention.

"You're seriously insane."

He takes a step back and looks around wildly, re-locates himself. Yes, he's here at the Grill and Caroline's before him. He is here.

But she's getting into his mind, causing him to doubt himself.

"I was joking. I knew you wouldn't take the deal, that's why I made it."

She scoffs and makes to turn away but he catches her arm lightly.

"Then you were wrong, weren't you, sweetheart?"

She glares at him and he works to keep himself under control.

That is the problem with Caroline. The defiant sunlight that comes from her eyes both enchants him and snarls that there is no way he will ever receive any of it.

" _No._ Because I don't trust you."

She makes to move away but he tightens his grip.

"You don't think I'd keep my word?"

She stares at him for a moment, weighing him up, before she turns fully back toward him.

"I think you better let go of me or you're going to regret it," she says through her teeth.

His hand drops to his side and Caroline grins triumphantly.

But even with her virulent in his veins he's Klaus Mikaelson and he needs a witty line.

"Promise?"

* * *

"What are you doing here?"

He shrugs. "I'm still waiting on confirmation. I agreed to your deal. I want what's mine."

She scoffs, turning away from the mirror to look at him.

"And _I'm_ supposed to be yours?"

"Trust me, you'd enjoy it," he smirks. It's confident but in actuality he has no idea whether she'll give in or not.

Something changes about her posture. Her back straightens and her shoulders re-align and for a second he glimpses uncertainty.

For a moment he almost feels she's thinking about it.

"I'm not sleeping with you so you won't hurt my friends."

He feels hot and cold everywhere, it's a symptom.

He steps closer; takes the chance she has offered.

"Your friends are safe, then."

She blinks, still uncertain. "Just like that?"

"Just like that."

He takes another step closer and notices the way her breath hitches.

The dress she's trying on is short and he lays an explorative hand on the bare part of her leg. He watches the way her eyes drop closed and she swallows.

"I don't like this one," he asserts. "Perhaps another."

Her eyes open again and the moment is crisper than any one he's ever lived. Battles to the death and life-threatening risks but nothing more of an untethering risk than this; no moment imbued with more possibility.

They can both see it so clearly it's as if the air shimmers with it.

She seems to move in slow motion, her mouth opening with a warm breath before she closes it again. She blinks and he watches the way her lashes move; her lips angle and open.

"Ok. Can you help me with the zip?"

She doesn't wait for an answer. She steps around him and he feels jittery as he follows, shooting a quick glance around the store even though he really couldn't care less who sees.

He joins her in the fitting room and she's still looking at him uncertainly but now it's all mixed up with the lust that's dancing on the surface of their skin.

"Lock the door," she instructs, softly.

He wants to say she may as well give up the act, they won't remain discreet for long, but instead he does what she says then steps forward.

"Klaus," she says.

He waits but there's nothing else.

He likes the way she says his name, he realises. He wants to hear more of it.

Her eyes shut and he can hear the little breath she takes when he reaches for the zip.

He doesn't know whether to do this fast or slowly. He feels dizzy with her presence and the proximity of her consent.

The zip is all the way down and he finds himself leaning in to her ear.

"Why are you doing this?"

"Because I want you," she answers honestly, her light blue eyes opening to meet his.

Her hoods are lidded but still it seems too much like a trick; too good to be true.

"Why?"

He knows she's poison, that's the difference. It's fine to want it if you know how bad it is for you. That's his theory, anyway.

Her answer is another zip being undone. The sound rings through the air and echoes in his body. She undoes his button, too, and he can barely breathe as he watches her push down his jeans as if he is hers to do with as she wills.

He supposes in a way he is.

In every way, perhaps.

She comes closer and he breaks. He shoves her against the mirror and kisses her so hard she shatters with whimpers.

Her arms come up to encircle him and blissfully pull him closer and he's all caught up in how his rapidly pumping heart spreads her through his limbs.

He spins her around so her front is pressed against the mirror, pulling her hair aside to lay kisses across the back of her neck. Then he finally begins to peel the dress off her, kissing her bare shoulders. It pools at her feet and immediately he pushes himself flush against her, revelling in her moans; revelling in the silky globes of her ass.

He nips headily at her shoulders; inhales her flowery scent.

"You're toxic, you know," he breathes into her skin.

"That's not a very nice thing to say to a person," she pants out.

"True, though," he murmurs.

She doesn't say anything; doesn't deny it.

His hand darts down her front, between her legs, and she lets him rub her over the cool cotton for a few seconds before she spins back around and pulls him to her lips.

Her taste is dizzying. There's something about Caroline's tongue on his that makes him lose his mind and when she wraps her legs around his waist he feels delusional.

She's a wicked hallucination as she rids them of the last of their clothing and pulls him so deep inside her he forgets the burn is chemical.

* * *

She strides into his home and beelines to where he's sitting on the sofa.

He's reading, or trying to – anything to keep his mind off her.

She said that she needed some time, which means that keeping his mind from wandering to the curves of her body has become a task that requires renewed determination and concentration with each second that passes.

So when he catches sight of her walking towards him, unbuttoning her fitted white shirt, Klaus considers having truly reached the stage of delusions.

But he has done copious amounts of LSD before, in an attempt to understand human highs, and his experience was nothing like Caroline Forbes barrelling towards him, leaving clothing in her wake.

She climbs right onto him and whispers into his ear: "I have an hour."

"I'm sure we can do something with that," he replies, on auto-pilot because he still isn't sure what's happening.

She says nothing more, setting her mouth at his throat and he drops his book, moving his hands to her waist.

"I didn't expect you to come to me," he verbalises his confusion.

"I got enough time. You were taking too long to realise that," she breathes, moving her lips to his mouth.

After successfully leaving him breathless she leans back, throwing all her hair onto a single shoulder. Then she reaches back behind her to undo the clasp on her bra.

"Do I have to do all this myself?" she teases, biting at her lip.

It spurs him into action; drives the confusion away as he sits up against her to get his next dose.

* * *

He doesn't want to be accused of being slow to initiate again.

He steps into her bedroom and she's at her chest of drawers, packing clothing into it.

She turns with a glare when she notices him.

"Seriously? What gives you the right to think you can come here?"

He frowns; intensely confused. He supposes this is her new way of making him suffer these days.

Still, the last time they saw each other she was mewling his name and now she looks ready to stab him with something.

"Have I offended you in some way?"

She scoffs and starts walking around the room, stomping back and forth as she throws things down and picks them up with equal force.

"You are an absolute ass and I can't _believe_ I trusted you."

He opens his mouth but she seems to be on a tirade.

"And then you come here like I wouldn't _know_." She shudders deliberately. "God, I can't believe I let you _touch_ me."

He folds his arms as he watches her angry stride and mentally conducts a search for anything he has done in the past day to make her react to him this way. Coming up empty, he opens his mouth to speak but she still hasn't finished.

"Get the hell out, Klaus."

He stares at her for a few seconds before letting his mouth drop closed and his jaw clench. He doesn't move another muscle.

"Why are you just standing there?!" she fumes.

"Well I'm awaiting either a chance to speak or an explanation, whichever comes first," he smirks.

She throws her hands up into the air. "Klaus, I know. _We_ _know_. You think we wouldn't notice if Elena went missing?"

Things begin to click together in his mind and two thoughts spring up – the first a consideration of what he can say to convince her he's blameless in this instance. The second is something far more mortifying.

 _I can have more._

"Ah, the doppelganger's got herself into another spot of trouble, has she?" he smiles, unsurprised. "And to answer your question, love, Elena _is_ rather dull but I suppose she's bound to be missed at one point or another. Whenever a Salvatore seeks a reason for woe, I would imagine."

She glares daggers at him. "Are you really making fun of the person you just kidnapped?"

"I have nothing to do with Elena's disappearance, Caroline," he clarifies. "I have no use for her and besides, she's a dreadful guest."

The blonde folds her arms over her chest and watches him closely. He's comfortable beneath her searching gaze, for once entirely innocent.

After a minute her eyes widen.

"Oh, _shit_! If you didn't take Elena, then who did?"

He shrugs. "I couldn't say. I do think you should leave her boyfriends to figure it out and let's you and I do something more productive."

"What's more productive than finding my friend?" she says absently, already typing frantically on her phone.

He steps closer to her, already thinking over everything he can do to her body.

"Relaxing so you're up to full strength when the time comes for you to make your heroic rescue effort."

She hits Send and looks up at him, half a knowing smile already set on her face.

"Relax? How?"

His hands move up under her skirt as he ducks into her neck, breathing her in deep as he runs his hands up behind her thighs.

"Am I still toxic?" she wonders, her heart pattering.

"Let's find out."

He draws her top up over her head then pushes her down onto her bed. She blinks up at him.

He kneels on the bed, lifting her arms above her head then pulling a curious thumb down her chest, blazing a trail.

"Cyanide," he whispers, feeling the ache spread from his thumb to the rest of his body.

She undoes her bra before roughly pulling him down on top of her.

"Then pick your poison."

* * *

"What's wrong?"

He's just walked into the Salvatore mansion but it seems more like a crypt.

She stumbles into his arms before he even catches sight of her and he knows nothing went according to plan.

"Klaus, please."

He's lost. In her, in the moment; as to what is going on.

"What happened?"

"They have her. And they have us outnumbered and outgunned. They have bombs, Klaus."

"I don't…" He can feel all their eyes on him but for some reason she's all he sees. "What is it you're asking of me?"

"Please," she says, her lip tucked under her teeth as she withholds tears.

He releases her; steps back. Her face crumbles and he averts his eyes.

"That wasn't a part of the deal, Caroline."

"What deal?" one of the Salvatores asks.

"You said there was no deal," she accuses.

She's right, he did say that. And at the time he had meant it. But he can't save Elena. That isn't him, that isn't what he does.

She won't do this to him too.

 _That's what should've happened, anyway. He's delusional, you see._

 _What really happens is:_

She stumbles into his arms and already he's agreeing to whatever she needs.

* * *

It's a rain of bullets and explosions and then it all stops once they realise none of it is permanently hurting him.

His fangs come out and they cower as he approaches the doppelganger, her body limp. She's practically all bled out – he's familiar with this particular scene, has created it himself – and he makes a note to wonder later what humans would want with her blood.

He works quickly to free her binds. He came in on one condition – that Caroline would stay behind. She agreed but he knows she'll break that agreement anyway if it takes him too long.

So he's not surprised to see her waiting outside with a sunny smile when he emerges with the doppelganger in his arms. He's not even surprised that he has the human in his arms.

Caroline's venom is no longer just the allure. It's expectation and pride.

He's a hero now and she's done this to him too.

* * *

She drags him downstairs and shoves him into the windowless room he once used for Elena.

She has him up against a pillar in moments and he switches them over as they kiss frantically, his hands moving all over her body.

"You saved her," she pants out between kisses.

"Reluctantly," he agrees, moving into her neck.

"You carried her out," she continues and he winces.

"She was moving pathetically slowly by herself," he rationalises against her noxious skin.

Caroline shifts, moves herself so that she can rub herself against him, the thin fabric of her romper grinding against his buckle.

"And they all just stood there; they didn't even _try_ to stop you. Because they knew what you'd do to them if they did."

He wants to say something in reply but she rips his shirt off his back and he chuckles in surprise.

"Am I to understand from this that heroism turns you on?"

Her eyes are lidded as she continues grinding and he speeds them over to the bed, laying himself between her legs.

Her teeth scrape over his biceps as her hands work their way over his torso, streaked with his own blood.

"You're so strong and indestructible," she breathes hotly and he smirks as he removes her clothing.

"I rather think you have a Good Guy fetish, love," he says, pulling her underwear down her legs.

"I think I have a You fetish," she admits, licking her bottom lip.

He looks down at her, memorising this moment. The suffering is worth her.

She runs a hand across his stubble.

"Am I still toxic?"

"Always," he nods.

"Why?"

He trails a finger over her hip bone.

"For starters, you've turned me into some sort of hero."

She laughs, almost concedingly, then looks up at him teasingly.

"You should take the title. The hero gets the girl."

"I know."

He does. If he can be what she wants at any given moment perhaps he can keep her. He's been many things throughout his years, after all. Bastard, betrayer, murderer; monster.

This one could kill him.

The next threat likely won't be humans and they'll come at him with more than heavy artillery. She wants a hero and it could the death of him.

She'll be the death of him, but when he's touching her he forgets to care.

* * *

When he's touching her it's as if death itself couldn't touch him.

But then she rolls off of him, catches her breath and looks over at him.

"I need your help."

He shoots her a glance then climbs off the sofa, gathering his clothing.

He knew this would come and he'd been practising his response.

"Caroline, I'm not some hand for hire. That was a one-time situation. When your friends get into trouble that's their problem, not mine."

She doesn't reply for the longest moment and when he turns to face her he sees her staring back at him in shock.

"I was gonna ask if you'd help out with the fundraiser tomorrow," she informs him, getting up. "But I guess that's not your problem either."

He wants to curse.

"Caroline – "

"Don't."

She begins dressing at rapid speed and he drags a hand through his hair.

"I didn't know that's what you meant. I'd gladly – "

"Seriously, don't," she warns, pulling on her jacket.

She grabs her bag and then she's walking away and words begin to spill out of his mouth haphazardly.

"Love, I didn't mean it like that, I simply – "

"Really?" she spins back around, giving him a second of relief. "You didn't mean that I use you like some kind of convenience tool whenever my friends are in trouble, even though I've asked you for help a total of _one time,_ and that, if my friends _were_ in danger, you wouldn't give a shit?"

He rubs his brow. "If you were in trouble – "

"You'd come for me," she sighs. "I know that. But it's not enough." She takes a deep breath like she's in pain and he hates himself; hates her almost as much for doing this to him. "This is actually better."

"How is that possible?"

"It's better that I found this out now rather than later." Her eyes close for a brief second. "You're really fantastic in bed, Klaus, but it was stupid to ever think we could go any further than that."

She turns around to leave again as he sits speechless. He doesn't know of anything he can say that will stop her.

But she halts of her own accord, her back to him.

"Thank you for saving Elena. I won't ask for anything like that again."

Then she's gone and for the first time, for just a second, he considers: maybe he's the poison.

* * *

"What are you doing here?"

"Damon called."

"That doesn't answer my question," she hisses back.

He shrugs. "I'm here to help."

She's quiet for a few seconds as she makes up her mind about this, his newest stunt, then seems to settle on an opinion, gritting her teeth.

"You clearly misunderstood me. And attending one meeting one time doesn't change anything."

"It will if you let it."

He tried going without her, he really did. For his pride, if nothing else.

It failed spectacularly. So much so that when Damon called he picked up on the first ring, hoping they were in need of his help.

"That's not gonna happen. I don't want you anymore."

She says it just like she said the opposite – casually, as if she is not breaking or building a man.

The group starts to disperse and she gets up too.

"Go away, Klaus. This isn't your problem, remember?"

Again she stops midway through her exit, this time speaking over her shoulder.

"Am I still toxic?" she asks sardonically and walks away.

"Yes," he says to himself.

* * *

"You gave up."

He jolts up on his bed in surprise as she steps into his room.

"…I was regrouping."

"For a week?"

He smiles a little, though not amused.

"You're difficult."

"Excuse me?"

"You're more complex than my typical problems, I can't be two steps ahead. It required more mental undertaking."

"So now I'm a problem?" He watches as she takes a cautious seat on the edge of his bed. "Is that an upgrade from toxic?"

He stares at her for a long moment then shifts tactics.

"What are you doing here, Caroline?"

She bites at her lip then meets his eyes.

"I realised that I was probably too hard on you."

Again, it's too good to be true. But his spirits rise anyway as he takes in the curve of her mouth and all the bare skin. He's missed her pernicious taste.

"And?"

"And I realised that it was because I thought that you were where I was. I just… I don't know how to handle this," she admits. "And I like finding solutions to things but in this case I don't know what you want from me, which makes it really hard to find one. I can't actually believe I'm saying this, but we're having the classic guy-girl commitment issue."

He's trying very hard to pay attention to her individual words but somehow in his mind they all smudge together so that he hears everything but comprehends only that she is here to take him back.

He can have more.

"Which is?"

"I want something stable and you…" She struggles then pulls a face. "What _do_ you want?"

The dress she's wearing doesn't encourage bra-wearing and she opted to go without.

A smirk pulls at his lips.

"You."

This flatters her even though it frustrates her, he can tell, and she's flustered for a moment as she scoffs and blushes.

"What a typical guy answer."

He smiles, the one he's learned she likes.

"What did you expect, sweetheart?" he shrugs, gesturing. "You came into my bedroom."

"You were in here!"

He stares at her, long and hard, till she's blushing again.

"Come here."

She folds her arms determinedly, which only makes him more determined to have her.

"I want to have this discussion."

"Me too," he nods. "But I need to be able to focus for it, and right now all I can think about is my face between your thighs."

Her cheeks pink but he really isn't exaggerating. His hands are fisted just so he won't tremble. He needs her, which means he can't care about the danger or the hero bullshit or the burn.

What he cares about is her shy laugh and the coy way she crawls over then lifts her dress up over her head. What he cares about is the way she surprises him by kissing him first then pulls away to stare at him, breathing him in, so he knows she isn't the only one who's needed.

Not that she's good for him now, oh no.

When he slides the lace down and she drops down onto him, he can feel her eating at him just as well as he can feel her walls pulsing around him.

She presses herself flush against him and moans as if she isn't the one tearing him apart.

He swears that the poison comes right from her pores and soaks into every inch of his skin. But it doesn't stop him from putting his mouth to her neck and sucking it all in.

* * *

"You're toxic."

He looks up from where he'd been examining her magnificent body to see a smile on her lips.

"Me?" he asks innocently.

She puts a finger to his lips and traces them.

 _You are mine_ , her every touch always seems to say, and he's not sure how he feels about it.

"I mean literally."

He frowns at this and it actually takes him a whole few seconds to realise what she means.

"I wouldn't bite you."

Something glimmers in her eyes and he wonders if his influence is just as dangerous as hers.

"But I want you to."

He freezes up and she watches contentedly as if she didn't just ask for him to kill her.

"I don't understand."

"I want to feel what you feel," she says as if it is an explanation or makes any sense at all.

He knows she's tricking him. She has something else up her sleeve and he's annoyed he can't figure it out.

"Come on, Klaus." Her hand is on his cheek. "If I'm so poisonous, why don't you show me how it feels? That's only fair, right?"

She knows him well because that makes complete sense to him. Besides, she's asking him for it.

All at once her wrist is against his lips, and it's a millisecond before his fangs break skin that he remembers she is playing him.

It stops him from drinking because he draws back immediately, appalled by them both.

"What are you doing?" he growls.

She looks at the bite on her wrist, the way it isn't healing, and frowns.

"Trying a new tactic." She doesn't look happy about it.

"A new tactic for what?"

"For getting you to talk to me!" she shouts. "You wouldn't discuss it, now I'm _forcing_ you to think about it," she holds her wrist out pointedly.

"Watch me die."

His heart is pounding so hard he fears it coming out of his chest as she stares back at him resolutely, her chin high. This time her determination isn't quite as alluring.

"You're insane."

"Maybe you're finally starting to rub off on me," she snaps.

He glares at her for a long moment then bites into his wrist.

"Drink."

"No."

She covers herself with the sheet then pulls her knees up to her chest.

"Just what are you trying to prove, sweetheart?" he growls.

"We can't go on the way we have, Klaus. Either you're in – all the way in – or you're out." He opens his mouth but she isn't finished: "And either is fine, I'll deal with it, I just want you to decide."

She could be a mastermind. She could be him.

"I will once you drink my blood."

"You're not really in the position to negotiate."

He laughs without humour – she's finally driven him all the way to insanity. "You're the one dying!"

Deliberately she stares back at him then lowers to lie down on her side and stare at him some more.

Panic and apprehension flood his body. She's serious. Worse, he has to make a choice.

Stay himself without her or be whatever it is she needs with her?

She blinks back at him. He gets up and walks out.

* * *

It's almost two hours later when he stalks back in. She's visibly shaking.

"Still think this was a good idea, sweetheart?" he asks, bitterly.

He's bitter because he has come to no decision.

She doesn't reply and he thinks it's another tactic before he realises she's barely breathing. He darts over and notes her chest rising and falling haphazardly just as it did that night.

His poison. Her body is wracking with his poison; his venom.

Her body bucks and he learns something: watching her die is much worse than anything she could do to him.

"Caroline?"

He jolts with the sudden memory, with suddenly understanding.

 _Because I've caught myself wishing that I could forget all the horrible things that you've done._

 _I guess we'll never know._

He saved her because in that moment he realised he'd never wanted anything more than to know. Never wanted anything more than for her to live. Never wanted anything more than her.

And now he's squandering that very opportunity – for what?

He bites into his wrist and holds it to her mouth, lifting her head.

It takes a few seconds before she begins to drink and then she digs her fangs in to keep the wound open. He buries his face in her hair, breathing her in; ashamed of his folly.

After a minute she stops drinking and he draws a breath of relief as he feels her breathing return to normal.

"You left. I wasn't sure you were coming back."

She licks at his wrist then lets him go. He holds on to her.

"Once is about as many times as I can watch you die."

She wriggles in his arms and he lets her turn around so that their eyes meet.

"I'd say sorry but you kinda owed me that."

His eyes narrow. "And was it everything you hoped?"

"I don't know," she shrugs. "Did you make up your mind?"

At that he looks away, the admission acrid inside him.

"Hey," she grabs his face; holds it between her palms.

 _You are mine_ , her every touch always seems to say, and he really hopes it's true.

"It's not a big deal, I promise. Just tell me if you're in or not."

He searches her eyes wildly but they're wide open and he can't believe someone would ask this of him with their eyes wide open.

He'll ruin her, he thinks.

But she already took his worst voluntarily and she's smart. Too smart to not get what she wants. Too smart to be ruined by something like him.

"Yes."

Her entire face morphs into a smile because that's the way she smiles. With her lips and the apples of her cheeks and her eyes gleaming as if she is the sun herself.

"Really?"

She doesn't wait for an answer though, she kisses him, hard, and he responds in kind before pulling back with leftover amazement.

"You're insane, you know."

"It worked, didn't it?" she smirks. "And being bitten isn't exactly new for me. It was actually refreshing being in control of it this time."

He wants to tell her control of the poison is an illusion, he's learned that first-hand, but perhaps it's different for her because she's different. After all, there was never any chance that he would let her die. They both knew that.

 _I know that you're in love with me._

He is.

Which is the real poison here.

But it's fine to want it if you know how bad it is for you.

Except, as he flips them over and stares down at her grinning beauty, he doesn't care either way. Perhaps it will kill him, loving her. Perhaps she will be his downfall.

Bastard, betrayer, murderer; monster.

Lover.

He's hers to do with as she wills.


End file.
